


Tequila Sunrise

by GloriaVictoria



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Asshole Hanzo Shimada, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, You know I wasn't going to use that last tag but honestly it's just too perfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9637571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaVictoria/pseuds/GloriaVictoria
Summary: As Hanzo sits alone, pondering the folly of his life, McCree comes and makes his night better with a friendly blowjob. Hanzo has feelings about it. There's tequila, and a sunrise, but no clever Eagles references.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ******* Like my work? Consider supporting it by buying me a Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/C0C5CWYM *******

The evening draped itself over Watchpoint Gibraltar like a warm comforter, the air still and the moon rising with the swelling tide below the tower. At its precipice sat Hanzo Shimada, serving as the self-appointed night watch. It gave him an opportunity to rest his body and mind alone, to meditate upon things that nobody else needed to know, things that did not concern his teammates and friends. Only the old soldier praised his vigilance, but his paranoia exceeded even Hanzo’s own; the others wished he would come down from his perch and spend time with the team. It wasn't worth it, he told himself. Creating ties led to having those ties inevitably broken, and he knew better than to invite more pain into his life.

Most irritating of all was the so-called cowboy, Jesse McCree. Like a dog he trailed Hanzo everywhere he went, desperate for a pat on the head or a treat. He swaggered around, tipping his hat and quipping pithy one-liners, all the while grinning like a hungry jackal. Hanzo couldn't stand him. Luckily, he had yet to disturb him here, in the silence of night, the moon widening and the salty breeze wafting up from the ocean.  
In a way, he saw his exile as penance for what he had done. Hanzo knew full well his teammates in Overwatch wanted him to move past the mistakes he made, to reconcile with his brother and create a new life, but that could never happen. Like an arrow on the path to its target, Hanzo's way could only be walked alone.

"Howdy there, partner!" Hanzo looked over the edge of the tower balcony. Below, McCree peered up at him, that same toothy grin on his face. Hanzo cursed under his breath.

"What do you want?" Hanzo growled back. McCree raised his hands submissively, pulling a flask slowly from his pocket.

"Easy, now. No need to fuss. I wanted to see if you wanted some company." McCree shook the bottle, and Hanzo heard the slosh of liquid inside. "At least have a drink with me." Hanzo wanted badly to dress down this imbecile, but the promise of a drink was tempting. The night air had chilled him, as had his memories, and he knew McCree's alcohol ran strong.

"Fine. Just a drink, no more."

“Gotcha.” McCree nodded, scratching his head beneath his hat. "Ehh...How do us non-ninja types get up to where you are?"

"Maintenance ladder." McCree circled around, climbing up with heavy footfalls and the occasional grunt. Once he made it to the edge of the perch he stood up and took off his hat, whistling loudly through his teeth.

"Now, how about that?" McCree chuckled, looking out at the vast ocean, glittering beneath the moon. "I see why you like it up here. Damn, what a view."

"Yes. It is...impressive." Hanzo eyed McCree carefully as he stepped over to the edge of the perch and sat down, rather unceremoniously, his spurs and other accoutrements jingling loudly. "You had best be careful, McCree. It is a long drop."

"Aww, I appreciate your concern, darlin'." McCree winked and leaned back, pulling a cigar and lighter from his belt. Hanzo watched him from the corner of his eye as he flipped back the cover and lit it. "Ah, hell, I forgot to ask. This okay?" Hanzo merely nodded, looking back out at the endless expanse of water below. He already regretted his decision to let McCree up here. Whatever hope he had of sifting through his thoughts in peace had vanished; already he felt his mind clouding, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tightening.

"You offered me a drink, McCree." Hanzo ground out between his teeth.

"So I did. Hold on a minute." McCree took a long drag from his cigar and clenched it between his teeth, pulled out his flask and handed it to Hanzo, who took it hesitantly. "What? Drink out of it." Hanzo scoffed.

"I'm aware of how to use a flask, McCree."

"Yeah, well you're lookin' at me like you ain't never seen one before." McCree chuckled. "I ain't got cooties, sweetheart." Hanzo rolled his eyes and popped the lid off, taking a drink before even thinking to ask McCree what he had put inside. What greeted him felt something like swallowing a teaspoon of liquid fire. Hanzo coughed and sputtered, shuddering as he swallowed it down.

"What on earth is that!?" McCree laughed out loud, putting the cigar out and storing it before tipping the flask back into his mouth.

"Tequila, partner. Like it?"

"Not particularly." Hanzo cringed as the tequila traveled down his body, burning his insides.

"Shame. Apart from whiskey it's my favorite. Makes your hair stand up the first couple times you drink it but after a while, it ain't so bad. Warms you up." Hanzo couldn't disagree with that. Despite the terrible taste and the burning, his body did feel warmer, and the tension in his muscles began to unwind.

"I suppose it's tolerable." Hanzo muttered, leaning back against the cold metal wall of the tower behind him. "May I ask what brought you here?"

"Mmm, not much. Angela told me you were up here. She's worried you're gonna catch cold if you keep coming up here bare-chested and all."

"You may tell her I am fine." Hanzo could feel McCree's eyes on him, but he did not meet them. For some reason he felt that maybe, if he didn't pay him any mind, he'd leave.

"Your body might be alright, but obviously somethin's wrong if you're up here all by your lonesome with night coming on." McCree did not move.

"If you have something you would like to say, cowboy, then say it."

"I think it's silly to coop yourself when you've got a whole posse of friends down there who'd love to know ya." Hanzo did not respond at first, allowing McCree's statement to hang in the air. "You know? Ain’t no need for it." He prompted.

"No. I would not expect you to understand." "McCree's gaze darkened.

"Is that right? And I suppose that's 'cause...you think I'm a shiftless loser without any sense of honor or dignity, right?" Hanzo's eyebrow twitched downward and McCree chuckled. "I can read ya like a book, friend."

"If that is true, you may as well leave, for I will tell you nothing more." Hanzo hissed angrily. He heard the slosh of McCree's flask and found it offered to him again. "Second time's better." Hanzo took it and drank deeply. This time, the burn felt good, like a well-deserved slap across the face. He did not cough this time, simply breathed deep and let out a short grunt. McCree adjusted his hat and sighed.

"Let me tell ya something. I've lost my share. I've been betrayed. I've fucked up just as bad as you, if not worse. You know what kept me from putting a bullet in my skull?" Hanzo did not reply. "My friends. My teammates. Those people down there...some of them have pulled me out of some hard times. I know if you let them--"

"I understand. Thank you." Hanzo spat, turning away from McCree. "I need not be lectured by you or anyone else."

"Right, right. Gotta play the tough guy, huh?" McCree quietly moved closer, so much so that Hanzo almost didn't hear. He did, however, feel the warmth of McCree's body on his skin, and stiffened ever so slightly.

"Here. Take another drink."

Hanzo complied, swallowing another mouthful of McCree's tequila. By now the burn had largely ebbed away to a dull ache in his stomach, and the taste had even begun to grow on Hanzo, if only a bit.

"Alright, friend. Let me square up with ya, for real. I came up here ‘cause I like ya. You're a damn good shot, and you're good lookin' to boot. I won't beat around the bush about it." Hanzo laughed incredulously.

"I should have known. This has nothing to do with them at all, does it? You came up here to try and seduce me with alcohol and platitudes. That strikes me as particularly desperate." McCree shrugged and grinned from ear to ear.

"I reckon I am desperate. But I can't help but notice you haven't pushed me away yet, neither. Why might that be, partner?" Hanzo growled, eyes wary.

"Do not test me."

"I ain't. I just asked you a question." McCree's eyes met Hanzo's and stuck him there. Up this close, Hanzo could see McCree's face in perfect detail, down to the minute scars on his cheek and the lines where age and the sun had damaged him. He was rough, but Hanzo saw the charm in him nevertheless.

Hanzo cursed inwardly. The drink had unfocused his mind to the point where he was reduced to staring into this fool's eyes like a love-struck loon. He could not accept this, and yet, as McCree said himself, he had not moved away.

"Well?" McCree asked again, his voice low and husky. "If you’d like, I can show you how nice having a friend can be."

Hanzo's cheeks flushed. All the iron defenses he built around himself had fallen apart with the drink. Perhaps his curiosity had gotten the better of him; perhaps his body betrayed him, deprived of the human contact he told himself time and again he did not need or deserve. Having that intimacy offered so brazenly to him would have challenged his resolve on a normal day. Here, alone on the rooftop with no one to see him shamefully swooning over a drunk fool, he could not even summon up the will to respond. Instead, he simply leaned forward and McCree did the rest, cradling Hanzo's head in his hands and running a calloused thumb over the line of his cheekbone.

"Goddamn, you don't know how gorgeous you are." McCree closed the space between them, brushing chapped lips over Hanzo's. "I wanna kiss you. Tell me I can, please." Hanzo's heart caught in his throat and as he nodded, McCree presses his mouth firmly against Hanzo's, sliding his tongue deftly inside.

Hanzo could taste the tequila on his lips, mixed with a sweeter flavor that he could not identify, something that simply belonged to McCree. Something about that stirred a fire deep inside him; he felt privy to a secret part of McCree, and though he knew with certainty that he had not been the first, it excited him. Hanzo moaned as McCree's hands wandered downward, one hand running rough fingertips underneath the plunging line of his kimono and easing it off his shoulders, the other sending smooth, metallic touches across his stomach. McCree pulled back and looked at Hanzo's bare chest, paying special attention to his tattoo.

"One of these days I'll have to ask ya why ya got that." McCree ran his hand down the length of his arm, then back up to his chest, where his thumb settled on Hanzo's nipple. Hanzo shivered, his back stiffening as a sudden jolt of sensation shot through him. "Sensitive." McCree grinned. "Color me intrigued."

Hanzo leered with as much venom as he could muster. "Don't m-mock me, McCree." He grabbed McCree by the front of his shirt and ground their lips unceremoniously together, eliciting a low grunt from the cowboy as he caught himself on the wall. McCree pressed his body flush to Hanzo’s, burying his face in the crook of his neck and nipping at the skin there.

"Why, I'd never mock such an honorable fella." He growled seductively into Hanzo's ear. "Remember, I'm yer friend." McCree slipped one hand between Hanzo's legs, the other gripping his hips tight. Before long, Hanzo found himself flat on his back, breathless despite how gently McCree had lowered him there. McCree crawled atop him and, with what Hanzo could only read as a hungry smile, pressed his knee between Hanzo's legs and opened them. “Do I have your permission to give you the best time of your life?"

Hanzo scoffed. "So full of yourself."

"Like you're any better. Tell me what you want.”

"I want you to--" Hanzo stopped dead in his tracks before he could spit out whatever vicious comeback he had stored up for this moment. He had begun to sober up, and saw now the foolishness he had gotten himself into; rutting with his teammate like a dog in heat, hundreds of stories above the ground. Yet, he could not bring himself to bid McCree go. In fact, Hanzo had nearly forgotten that only moments before, he had not wanted him here in the first place.

"Yes?" McCree leaned down closer.

"....Stay. Do what you want." McCree cocked an eyebrow.

"What I--what, you want me to just..."

"Do...what you want with me." Hanzo repeated, his chest flushing as he spoke and his breathing ragged. McCree leaned back, a pleased grin on his face.

"Don't mind if I do." Keeping his eyes locked with Hanzo's, McCree moved slowly down between Hanzo's legs, running an open palm over his tightening bulge. Hanzo’s breath hitched in his throat and McCree grinned wider, slipping his fingers inside the waistband of Hanzo's pants and pulling them down, undergarments and all. The night air raised goosebumps on Hanzo's skin, and his cock stood painfully erect, the tip red and swollen.

"Shit. Ya know, you're bigger than I anticipated." Hanzo looked down at him, confused and embarrassed.

"H-how often do you entertain thoughts of that nature?"

"Darlin', if I don't think about shit like that at least five times a day, there's somethin' wrong with me." McCree wrapped his fingers around Hanzo’s cock and he moaned, leaning his head back against the cold metal as McCree began to lazily stroke him. "After all, we get sent on assignment together a lot, Hanzo. Gives me a long time to consider lots of things. Makes ya wonder if we ain't a good pair, doesn't it?"

"H-hah....That's abs-surd..."

"If ya say so." McCree smiled knowingly before lowering his head and taking Hanzo into his mouth. The warmth nearly overwhelmed Hanzo and he yelped aloud, arching his back up off the floor. McCree wasted no time sucking and teasing him, pressing his tongue along all the tiniest creases of skin while he fondled Hanzo's balls with his prosthetic hand, each finger delicately manipulating the sensitive tissue there.

Before long, Hanzo lost himself in McCree's ministrations. Despite McCree's assumption that Hanzo had little experience, in his youth he had his share of liaisons, but none of these felt quite this intense, quite this overwhelming. Why? He could no longer blame the drink, or the novelty of McCree's presence. Now, at least for this moment, he had to accept the truth: he wanted McCree as badly as McCree wanted him. Later, he could dwell on what that would mean, but for now, he could only focus on the wet, hot tongue trailing up and down his length, the broad hands kneading his thighs. Despite his best efforts, a stream of soft sighs and moans escaped him as McCree took him deeper and deeper into his mouth, bobbing and sucking. Finally he pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Hah....Fuck, darlin', you're making some mighty fine noises up there. Think you're up for something a little more exciting?" Hanzo scoffed and sat up, grabbing McCree with both hands by the collar and rolling him onto his back.

"You have played your hand. Now, my turn."

McCree grinned wolfishly. "All ya had to do was ask." McCree laid back and watched with hungry eyes as Hanzo unbuckled his obnoxious belt and pulled it free, his nimble fingers making quick work of his button and zipper. With a few short pulls McCree's cock came free, laying heavy on his tan thigh. Had Hanzo more patience he might have made greater note of McCree's respectable girth, but he did not. His whole body quaked with an urgency he had only felt on the battlefield, and it demanded immediate action.

"Sit up." He grunted, and McCree complied, leaning himself back against the wall of the tower wordlessly. Hanzo glanced up at him and, to his surprise, saw none of McCree's usual cocky attitude. He almost seemed awestruck, or perhaps too drunk to focus, but either way, it pleased Hanzo. Slotting his knees around McCree's thighs, he settled himself on top and took both of their cocks into his hand. Already the heat of McCree blindsided him, and his hips twitched forward.

"Ah-fuck, Hanzo..." Metallic fingers tangled into Hanzo's hair and McCree pulled him down, crushing their lips together desperately. Hanzo began to pump his hand over them both, pressing his tongue inside McCree's mouth and searching for that intoxicating taste he had discovered before. The tequila had somewhat soured in both of their mouths, and perhaps in another situation Hanzo might have found that distasteful; here, it only fueled his desire to take more and more of McCree for his own. "Feels so good, darlin'..."

"Wh-why do you call me that?" McCree only chuckled and rolled Hanzo over onto his back, grinding hard against his erection with shallow thrusts of his hips.

"Guess I just like ya too much." He nuzzled Hanzo's ear and gently bit his neck, sucking on the tender flesh there as he continued to fuck up against Hanzo. Hanzo felt his brain flatlining, succumbing to the thoughtless bliss that came with release, but he bit his tongue and willed himself to wait. He didn't want what came after.

"Ah, Hanzo, I--can't hold off too much longer..." McCree's hips jolted forward awkwardly, and Hanzo wrapped his arms around his neck as McCree came hard, spattering his bare chest and kimono. He shivered at the heat of it, the feeling of McCree's body tightening and quivering above him as he struggled to maintain some semblance of movement. Hanzo begrudgingly let himself go after him, thrusting up into McCree's hand and releasing with a low moan muffled against McCree's shoulder.

The two of them laid against each other for a long moment, and Hanzo looked up at the sky, which had just begun to change color. The stars had dimmed, and the moon no longer hung like a lantern above them.

"Damn..." McCree sat up at last, pushing himself into his pants and examining his soiled hand before wiping it almost regretfully on his jeans. "Well, that went a lot better than I expected." Hanzo wordlessly pulled his kimono over his shoulders, avoiding McCree's gaze. "Hey, now, what's the matter?"

"Why did you come here?"

"What? What do ya mean? I already told ya--"

"Was this a game to you?" Hanzo looked him in the eye and McCree stared right back, undeterred.  
  
"No. It wasn't. I told you the truth. Believe it or not, you're allowed to trust people sometimes." McCree sighed and buttoned up his shirt. "You really can't do it, can ya?"

"What?"

"Let yourself enjoy life." Hanzo felt his stomach twist with a feeling almost like shame, and McCree smiled gently, kneeling down and pressing a kiss to Hanzo's cheek. "You really oughta figure that out. You're so pretty when you're havin' a good time." He whispered before grabbing his hat, cramming it onto his head and heading back down the maintenance ladder, leaving Hanzo utterly wordless. He turned away and watched the sun continue to paint the sky, a sudden and incredible sadness building in his chest. For the first time since he had committed his terrible sin, he had allowed someone to approach him, to push past the wall he had built around himself, and now he knew not what to do. Could he shore it back up? Did he want to?

As Hanzo walked back to the edge of the tower, he noticed the flask of tequila on the floor, gleaming in the new sunlight. He would have to return this to McCree, he supposed. He picked it up, turning it in his hands before popping off the lid and draining the rest. Far from burning his throat, like it did before, it warmed him from head to toe. He looked out at the ocean as the sun burst forth from the waves and sighed. Perhaps he had made a terrible mistake; perhaps not.

Only time would tell.


End file.
